Of Farewells and Fudgesicles
by Dream Wreaver
Summary: Band-aids might not fix bullet holes, but ice cream makes everything better. Humble in-universe tribute to our fallen King. Rated T for Jareth.


Hey Everyone!

Yes, another tribute to our fallen King, this time in-universe. I would have had this up yesterday but I worked on it until it was so late my eyes physically could not focus on the screen. The Sarah and Jareth in this story are inspired in part by Pika la cynique's Girls Next Door comic Sarah and Jareth: if you haven't read the webcomic yet, you should do so soon: it is FABULOUS!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea.

Dedicated wholeheartedly to David Bowie: keep on Magic Dancing my King

* * *

The snow fell from the heavens in gentle waves, frosting the roofs of rustic homes and cottages as well as cobblestone streets and walls. Holly wreaths and garlands could still be seen everywhere, and the general air of festivity and generosity continued to reverberate. But the most beautiful sight that could ever be seen was that of a sugar-coating giant, peacefully sleeping in its nest of field and plains.

From the great round window in the throne room, that was what she saw. Still dressed in the emerald finery from yet another gala they'd attended she watched the maze as it rippled: walls flexing and moving much like a sleeping animal did when trying to readjust for comfort. Just as quickly, it resettled and slumbered again.

She sighed, turning to face the horde that for some reason or other had decided to take up permanent residence there. Half of them were drunk, a fourth of them were getting drunk, and the last group of them hadn't stopped being drunk since the Solstice season had begun. She smiled indulgently and shook her head, deciding to return to her vigil at the window. Was she waiting for something, someone? No, but she enjoyed watching over her kingdom the few occasions she had time to spare to it.

A supple leather-clad hand began massaging the base of her neck. Her eyes slid closed, but she neither denied nor encouraged the action to continue. The hand slid along to her furthest shoulder and cupped it, bringing her into contact with a very warm, very familiar personage.

She hummed, "Mm… Why'd you stop?" she purred.

"You didn't ask Precious," a masculine voice purred back just as sultrily, "And I would never have had it be said that I took any liberties you did not allow me. After all, I have no power over you, remember?"

She chuckled lowly, "But that was so long ago," she pointed out with a slight pout, "Haven't you forgiven me by now?"

His lips quirked in that familiar way, "Mayhaps," he replied, "Mayhaps not."

Her mock pout intensified as she let out a sound of disappointment, "Oh, and here I thought we were equals."

"For your will is as strong as mine, and your kingdom as great,"

"Not as much of an argument now that we share the same kingdom," she cocked a brow and gave a saucy smile.

His eyes narrowed playfully, "Impudent wench," he growled.

"Says the villainous king who still has me in his clutches," she taunted.

"I noticed you've made no move to escape my hold," he commented.

"Why would I?" she asked, "I like here: here in your arms, here in the castle, here in our kingdom."

"I must say that I like you in all of those places as well," he paused and turned her to face him, "However, I must say there is one place I prefer you above all others."

Her brow quirked in amusement, "Oh? And where would that be my king?"

His smirk turned lecherous, "In my bed, sprawled out undone beneath me," he whispered into her hear.

As he pulled back he missed seeing her eyes fluttering with excitement. What he did see was a coy expression, made slightly less effective by her becomingly blushing cheeks.

"Why your majesty!" she gasped in faux outrage, "How bold of you to say!"

She received naught but a chuckle in response.

"Do you behave so rakishly with every maiden you meet?"

"If I recall correctly, you are no maiden," he replied with heat in his gaze.

Her affronted guise dropped instantly, "And who do you suppose is responsible for that state?"

"I assume you are going to blame me?"

"Was it not you who lured me into your bed with the promise of marriage?"

"Did I not fulfil that obligation?"

She glanced down at his left hand, "I don't see a ring on your hand, nor is there one on mine."

"I wear mine beneath my gloves, and you wear yours on a necklace because of your intensive need to explore."

Caught by her own words she smiled, shrugged, and conceded the battle.

"Very well my king, you win this round."

"I intend to win them all,"

She gave a knowing smirk, "But that wouldn't be fair, now would it?"

"No, but that is simply the way it is," he replied.

Sarah laughed, "Alright Jareth, was there a purpose to interrupting me? Or did you just want some verbal foreplay?"

"Is that what you refer to our little conversations as?" he asked.

"Do you deny that's what they are?" she parried.

He held up his hands placatingly, "Perish the thought Precious," he replied, "But I did have other purposes in seeking you out."

The serious tone of his second statement worried her. Though he was a firm and competent ruler, seriousness was not usually needed unless he had a meeting with other kingdoms. The goblins were too joyous a race to truly understand solemnity. They responded to orders well enough so long as they came with a threat of bogging.

"Jareth, is something wrong?"

"Not that I know of Sarah-mine," he answered, "But young Tobias called upon me through his mirror today, said he wished for us to visit."

"He called upon you?" Sarah asked, "Usually if there's something I need to know he calls on me personally."

"Perhaps he thought it would be better handled if we both were present," Jareth suggested.

Sarah put a finger to her lip in thought, "Perhaps… Anyways we should get going. If he asked to see us today it must be important."

She shrugged out of her husband's embrace and started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Jareth called after her.

"To change," Sarah replied, "As much as I adore all the clothes you had made for me, they're hardly appropriate for Aboveground wear."

"I could easily create glamours for us both," Jareth said as he strode behind her.

"Why waste all that energy when you could simply change our clothes with a snap of your fingers?"

Jareth opened his mouth to argue but fell flat, "Very well. Do you have an idea of what you wish to be wearing?"

"Some jeans, the forest-colored sweater, some warm boots and my maroon pea-coat should do it."

"Alright then," the Fae King of the Goblins snapped his fingers together and the outfits they had been wearing were replaced with more modern clothing choices.

"You really do clean up nice," Sarah remarked as she eyes his ensemble: a midnight blue cable-knit sweater with black slacks, loafers, and a long black trench-coat.

"Thank you my dear, now shall we get going?"

"We shall," she said as she walked over to him. He held her in his arms and whisked them away.

The arrived on Toby's front porch, and Sarah was glad for her decision to change clothes. Snow had already appeared on the ground, and though it was light the bitter cold would keep anyone with any sense inside for the time being.

She looked to Jareth for a moment, noting that he had shortened his hair and slicked it back in the interim, the Fae marking usually around his eyes nothing more than shadows at the moment. He nodded at her to go ahead. Sarah raised a gloved hand and knocked on her baby brother's front door. The man himself was the one who answered it.

"Sarah, Jareth, you made it," he said, his tone an odd mix of joviality and melancholy.

"You did call," Sarah reminded him, "How are Elaina and the kids?"

"Just fine," Toby replied as he stepped to the side to let them in, "Elaina's making lunch and the children are in the den, still having a ton of fun with the Christmas toys you sent them."

"Before we talk, I'd like to go say hi to them," Sarah said, "Since we couldn't make it for Christmas or New Year's. You know how pushy Jareth's family is about these things."

"Go ahead," Toby told them as he took their coats and set them on the rack, "I think it would be better that way actually."

As they walked to the den Sarah shot Jareth an even more concerned look in regards to her brother. Jareth shrugged, not knowing what was plaguing the boy he'd once come close to naming as his heir.

Five-year-old Elisa and her younger brother Thomas were sitting on the carpeted floor. Elisa was playing with her "contact juggling" set: an enchanted crystal designed to multiply infinitely as she got better and better with her skills. Right now she was managing two in the same hand spinning them expertly. Thomas, rambunctious four-year-old he was, was playing with his Goblin army set: putting together soldier formations only to trigger the cannon and sent them all sprawling to the ground at his mark.

"Elisa! Thomas!" Sarah called excitedly as she fell to her knees and opened her arms wide.

"Aunt Sarah! Uncle Jared!" the children chorused, still not able to properly pronounce her husband's name. they dropped their toys and went running into their aunt's embrace.

"How are you sweetlings?" she cooed, hugging them both and setting them back to their feet to greet their uncle.

"We're fine Aunt Sarah," Elisa replied, looking over from embracing Jareth's leg.

"Fine!" Thomas echoed happily.

"That's wonderful," Sarah said rising to her feet. She elbowed her husband subtly, "Jareth say hello,"

He gave her a look out the corner of his eye as he hoisted the two munchkins up into the air, "And how much hell have you been giving your parents recently?" he asked.

Thomas laughed, "Lots an' lots!" he proclaimed proudly.

"I'm glad to hear it,"

"Jareth!" Sarah smacked his arm.

Elisa giggled, "He's jus' teasin' Aunt Sarah. Me an' Thomas been good. Honest."

She batted her eyelashes in such a way that Sarah couldn't tell whether she was lying or not.

"Elisa! Thomas!" Elaina stood in the doorway to the kitchen, "Lunch is ready!"

The children's eyes widened, "Lunch! Lunch!" they cried. Jareth set them down on their feet and off they raced.

"How have you been Sarah? Jareth?" Elaina asked conversationally.

"Just fine," Sarah answered for the both of them, "London gets pretty busy around Christmastime, and Jareth's parents insisted we join them for the New Year, otherwise we would have been around."

"Luckily for us, we were already in New York on business and had been planning to come down for a visit when we got Tobias's call," Jareth added.

"That's nice," Elaina replied, "And how are you taking the news Sarah?"

"News? What news?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Elaina backtracked embarrassedly, "I thought Toby had already old you, knowing that you guys are so busy and all. Well he wanted to be the one to tell you so I'll say no more and get back to the children. Toby's in his office right now,"

With that she vanished into the other room. Sarah and Jareth had no hard feelings towards Elaina, but they felt she was a bit too frothy and air-headed sometimes. Nevertheless, she was who made Toby happy, so they welcomed her with open arms.

"What do you suppose that was all about?" Sarah asked as they left the den to continue to Toby's study.

"I already told you," Jareth replied, "I have no idea why we were summoned today."

"You don't suppose something happened to Karen did you?" Sarah worried. While not as close as Toby was to his mother, Sarah had grown to care for the old woman and worried after her often, especially since Robert had died just a few short years ago.

"If that had been the case, I don't think he would have let us see the children first," Jareth told her, "He also seemed concerned for you, rather than himself."

"Perhaps you're right," Sarah agreed, "Well, we'll find out when we get there."

They entered into Toby's office, where he continued reviewing case materials after leaving the firm for the day. Sarah had never been so proud as when Toby had decided to follow in his father's footsteps. Toby himself was sitting at his desk, looking over a few documents while munching on a sandwich.

"Toby?" Sarah said.

Toby looked up from his work, cheeks still bulging with food. He set the paper down and motioned for a moment while he swallowed.

"Ah, Sarah," he said, "Why don't you take a seat," he motioned to the two chairs he kept before his desk.

Sarah took a seat, and Jareth sat on the arm of her chair, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"Toby what's wrong? Is Karen okay?"

Toby waved off her question, "Mom's fine, well as fine as she can be all things considered," Sarah knew he meant since their father's death. Despite the rocky start, Sarah had come to realize that Karen had deeply loved Robert, which had become more than apparent with how devastated she had been at his death.

"Then, what's wrong?"

"Well Sarah, I don't really know how to tell you this," Toby began.

"What?"

Her little brother looked her straight in the eye, sad for her but otherwise unaffected by whatever news he was about to deliver.

"Toby, what?"

They had cut their visit short after that. Sarah had been too upset to wish to stay any longer.

"Would you like to go home?" Jareth asked.

"No," Sarah replied, "Jareth, can you take us to Brixton?"

"Of course, but why?"

"I want, to pay my respects."

"As you wish Precious," and without another thought he whisked them away.

They arrived in a typical English town, right in front of a massive brick wall with a portrait of an odd man painted on it. Below the rendering was a massive pile of gifts, ranging from flowers to candles to stuffed animals.

"Is this him?" Jareth asked.

"Yeah," Sarah sniffed and nodded.

"He looks odd,"

Sarah shot him a look, "That's rich coming from you. But it's all makeup, one of his onstage personas."

"Who was he anyways?"

"He was an incredible musician, at least according to everyone but himself," Sarah explained, "He was an innovator, changing music around this world as we know it. He was one of the most iconic musicians of the twentieth century, his music's been featured in all sorts of movies, he's even acted in a few. He was, a hero to a lot of people."

"Do you include yourself among them?"

Sarah nodded, a tear forming in the corner of her eye, "Some of my fondest childhood memories were of my mother and father and me. Mom would put on one of his records, and then she and dad and I would all dance around the living room. We were so happy then," she paused, looking melancholic and wistful as the winter wind blew her hair about, "When my mother got one of her first big breaks on Broadway, it was playing his love interest. She said he was a nice man, and that if you didn't know any better, you never would have figured that he was a famous celebrity. She said he was one of the kindest men she'd ever met, and that she was glad she had met him. They always say it's better not to meet your heroes because they usually end up disappointing you. But for some reason that never applied to him, probably because he never thought of himself as a hero.

"He was always different, and he made it okay to be different. He was the reason why at sixteen, I was okay with playing pretend in the park, okay with being myself. Because he was okay with being himself."

"So I have him to thank?"

"In a sense, yes. I just," Sarah cut herself off, "He was so _young_ ,"

"Young? Sarah, the man was sixty-nine years old. That's a long life, for a mortal."

"Jareth, I think you need to reeducate yourself on the human lifespan. People are living over a hundred years nowadays. A hundred is the youngest Toby will get to barring an unfortunate accident."

"True, but why are you so surprised by all of this? You knew he was a mortal,"

"I knew, but Jareth, he was one of those people you could know was going to die and still never be prepared for it. Humans as a whole, we think that those people special and so different and not afraid to show it: we think that they're not mortal anymore. We think that the everyday problems of human life don't apply to them, can't affect them because they're special."

"You're special Precious," he reminded her.

"I'm not famous for being special though," Sarah replied, "I just, a year and a half. He'd been fighting a year and a half. And working on top of fighting. I wish had known earlier…"

"You heard what Tobias said," Jareth brought her into his embrace, "No one knew outside of those who needed to know,"

"He was very good at keeping his private life private," Sarah remarked.

"Besides, would hindsight have really changed that much?"

"We could have saved him had we known!" Sarah protested.

"Sarah-mine, do you really that's what he would have wanted?"

"Doesn't every human want to live forever?" she countered.

"Some do," Jareth admitted, "But some are happy just the way they are. Look at Toby for example."

And Sarah had to agree. Since Jareth had fed Toby Fae food while she was running the Labyrinth he had become a changeling, much like she had after eating the peach. So upon his eighteenth birthday, she and Jareth had approached him, and told him that he could now make a choice. He could go with them and become a full Fae, like Sarah had chosen. Or, he could stay in the human world. Because he had been surrounded by magic for so long, courtesy of Sarah's friends and Jareth's goblin guard on the boy, he would still have a longer lifespan than any mortal. However, he would still die at some point, and he would not have the resistance and strength granted to full Fae.

Toby had said that while he loved magic, and had enjoyed all the gifts given to him thus far. He knew the mortal world was the one he was fated for. Toby had known there was something different about Sarah the very first time she had held him, as babies are far more perceptive than people gave them credit for. And as he had grown that certainty had only grown with him. Sarah was not meant for the mortal world, and he knew that someday the world she was meant for would come to claim her. It had, in the form of Jareth and Toby had wholeheartedly supported his sister's decision. That didn't mean it was the same decision for him and he had told them as much. They had supported him in much the same fashion. And though Sarah knew her heart was going to break once he died, she was happy for him.

She sighed, "I suppose you're right."

"You know I am," he cuddled Sarah even closer to him, "You know, one of the wisest mortal adages I ever heard was 'do not cry because it is over, smile because it had happened'."

Sarah sniffed again, "I get the feeling that's something he would have said to his family."

Jareth brought them closer to the picture and reached out both their hands to touch it.

"Farefarren," he said quietly.

Sarah turned to look at him, "What did you say?"

"It's an old Underlandian word. It means, 'until we meet again'."

"Underlandian?"

"I believe you mortals call it Wonderland: the place only accessible to mortals vial rabbit holes or looking glasses."

"You mean the Lewis Carroll stories? I thought they were nothing but fiction."

"I believe you thought the same of my Labyrinth until you met me."

"So how do you know Underlandian?"

"I don't know much, but my kingdom has trade agreements with them. Where do you think you get all those wonderful hats of yours?"

"From Underland?"

"Courtesy of the Royal Hatter himself. You'd like him,"

"Let me guess, he's completely mad?"

"They all are over there," Jareth replied, "Is there anything else you wish to say?"

Sarah turned to the picture, "Just, thank-you. Thank-you for everything."

Jareth turned and began walking them away from the memorial. And Sarah continued to ask questions, "So why did you say farefarren instead of farewell?"

"A soul as bright as you say his was? I doubt that the Fates would just let him into the ether, never to be seen again. He'll be back, I'm sure of it."

"How do you know?"

"Because, all of this has happened before, and it will all happen again. It's human nature to repeat itself. The times, the places, and the specific people may vary, but the cycle is more or less the same."

"Well, he once said that he didn't know where he would be going, but he could bet that it wouldn't be boring," she said.

"You wanna know something really funny?" Sarah asked as they continued to walk.

"What Pet?"

"You and he were kind of similar,"

"How so?"

"You both loved music, used it to express yourselves. You weren't afraid of what your peers thought of you. You just were who you were, and you liked making people happy."

"You really think that?"

"Practically since the day I met you," she stopped short a moment as though realizing something, "I can't believe it's been almost thirty years since I met you."

"And nearly twenty-one years of marriage."

And it was true. Nine years, almost to the day of their first meeting, Sarah and Jareth had married. It had taken him quite a bit of time to persuade her, as they had needed to build their relationship from the ground up. Sarah had still been a bit wounded from all Jareth had put her through, and while grateful for the lesson she had been less than thrilled to see him once again on her eighteenth birthday. He had explained she needed to make a choice, since she had consumed Fae food and thus was no longer entirely human. She had planted her hands on her hips and told him flat out there was no way she'd be going back with him.

It had taken five years after that. Five years of issues, arguments, conversations. Five years of acquaintanceship, then friendship, for her to agree to back with him to start a relationship. And another two mortal years to agree to be his wife. If one had asked her, as Hoggle had many a time, Sarah wouldn't have been able to say when she fell in love with her husband. It had just happened, slowly but surely, as they interacted with each other and subsequently changed one another.

He had first taught her the importance of responsibility and growing up. He then proceeded to educate her in the fact that growing up did not mean giving up the child you once were entirely. Likewise she had taught him that even mortals were not all that they seemed, and that while being a spoilt child was alright sometimes, it was not how a King should act all the time.

They had each accepted the other's flaws and slowly but surely worked on them together. Both striving to be better for the other's sake. And love had been fostered as they had done so.

"Oh stop," she pleaded, "It makes me feel so old!"

"You're only forty-six love," Jareth said, "In my realm you're nothing but a babe."

"A babe?" she quirked her brow.

"Relatively speaking. You're still quite young comparatively."

"Was that an insult and you're just trying to weasel your way out of it?"

"Never dear, I know for a fact that you are no child."

Sarah blushed and rolled her eyes, "And it would do you well to remember that, your _highness_."

"Of course my dear. Now, have we finished our business here?"

"I guess, there's just one more thing I want to do before we leave."

"And what would that be?"

"I want ice cream."

"Really Sarah? At this time of night?"

"It makes me feel better when I'm sad."

"But it's a little late for ice cream here."

"Alright, can we stop at the house and get some?"

"As you wish Precious. As you wish."

"Was it necessary to get that kind of ice cream?"

"Yes,"

"But there were so many other choices-"

"I wanted this one, and I always get what I want."

"How well I know that Precious," he stifled the urge to roll his eyes, "But you could at least share them with me."

"No," Sarah said petulantly, "These Fudgesicles are mine and I'm not sharing," to prove her point she savagely bit down into the one she had opened while hoarding rest of the box close to her chest.

"Precious, they're going to melt if you keep this up."

"If that's the way it is, then that's the way it is. You're not getting my Fudgecicles."

He huffed, "Really now Sarah-"

"No!"

A rapping at the door caught their attention. Jareth instantly vanished the box of frozen chocolate treats to the icebox in the kitchen and he and Sarah arranged themselves on their thrones.

"Enter!" he called regally.

The main doors opened to reveal a finely dressed courtier from a different kingdom. Hastily he made his way to the sovereigns, taking great care to avoid their Goblin subjects. Upon reaching the dais he gave a low bow.

"Your majesties," he said.

"State your business," Jareth commanded with the bored expression the other courts expected of him. Sarah sat at his right hand, gazing on impassively.

"I have here an invitation from your father's court, requesting your attendance within the next few days," the courtier pulled out an envelope with the seal of the high court on it.

"Very well," Jareth said, magicking the envelope, "I shall send him my reply shortly. You are free to go," and with a flick of his wrist the courtier was back where he had come from.

"What event do you suppose they wish us to attend now?" Sarah asked as Jareth broke the seal and started scanning the note.

"I don't believe this," he muttered as he finished reading.

"What?" Sarah asked.

Jareth shook his head, "You'll have to read it for yourself," he replied as he handed her the missive.

Sarah proceeded to look over the finely inked parchment, her expression changing joyously as she did so. When she was finished the invitation slipped from her fingers unheeded as she stared at her husband with misty eyes. She leapt from her throne and into his arms, sobbing rapturously. He petted her spine and then stood, cradling her and instantly bring them to their chambers to settle her.

Back in the throne room, the forgotten piece of parchment lay innocently on the ground. The fine scrawl conveying the most joyous news Sarah could have received.

' _King Jareth and Queen Sarah of the Goblin Realms,_

 _Their Royal Highnesses King Oberon and Queen Titannia, rulers of the High Court cordially invite you to attend the welcoming ceremony for the newest member of their court:_

 _David Jones,_

 _Formerly known Aboveground as David Bowie_

 _Please send your reply posthaste.'_

* * *

Just to let you know I will not actually say the words because I am going to continue living in denial for the rest of my life. But I would love to hear your thoughts anyways. Please leave a review so we can get through this together.

*proceeds to sit down in a corner, shove cotton wads in ears, cover stuffed ears with hands and infinitely repeat "it didn't happen, it's not real" over and over again


End file.
